


Conjugal Visit

by paynesgrey



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-17
Updated: 2008-09-17
Packaged: 2019-03-08 15:56:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13461567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paynesgrey/pseuds/paynesgrey
Summary: Elle visits his cell with one thing on her mind, but Sylar doesn't expect her reasons in the end.





	Conjugal Visit

**Author's Note:**

> Written from a meme in my journal for a 'ship people would like to see me write that I don't do often. This was a request from both [](http://rarity.livejournal.com/profile)[rarity](http://rarity.livejournal.com/) and [](http://rtwofan.livejournal.com/profile)[rtwofan](http://rtwofan.livejournal.com/). They wanted something cracktastic, but this turned out being kinda smutty instead.

Elle Bishop is nothing to him.

She’s nothing and yet she has something – something he’s sure he cannot take without a price. And when she slides her curious hands down his restrained body, he knows exactly what that price is.

Somewhere in Elle’s off-kilter brain, Sylar senses a stray synapse that takes just too much interest in him. He thinks of it as a bargaining chip, but he doesn’t rule out the possibility that maybe he’s going crazy.

The Company pumps him with so many drugs he doesn’t know what to think anymore. It’s a chore to struggle with his sanity.

Yet, somewhere within the drug addled haze, he can feel her mouth on his body, just as the juncture of his thighs. Her lips and tongue are the only warmth he feels on his exposed skin in the chilled cement cage. His eyes blink open, weary, and he looks down to see her smiling at him with a glint of mischief in her eyes.

He knows she’s crazy, but he’s never thought she’d touch him like this. Maybe she can only get the guys who are shackled, imprisoned and doped up on chemicals. As the thought crosses his mind, he reminds himself to use that line on her when the time comes.

“Morning sunshine,” she says, and her voice sounds like an echo in his head. He sneers at her as best as his muscles could tense.

His voice comes out in a slur, and he has a hard time even controlling his breath. “You know… I’m going to kill you.”

She laughs. She doesn’t seem to know the ramifications of his powers, the punishment for accosting someone special like him.

“You can talk all you want,” she says, cocking her head at him. “But you and I both know you can’t do anything tied up like that.” Elle glances to the window outside the cell. There’s no one there, but Sylar is sure someone is close – hiding. Frustration rises inside him as he can’t even reach his powers through the haze of the drugs. No, there’s a power out there muffling him. Elle knows this. This is why she’s so confident. He’s sure she wouldn’t touch him if she wasn’t assured of her own safety. He grits his teeth and sneers at her, pulling weakly at his restraints.

She laughs again; the smile on her bright face is dark with her intentions.

“Very well then,” he says in a slur, trying to match her level. Someone’s going to pay for treating him like this, but he can’t do anything about it now. “What do you want?”

He tenses as a charge-free finger caresses sensitive skin of his inner thigh (though he’s sure she can’t use her powers now either). She’s no longer looking at him but at the prize presented to her. Even the drugs couldn’t subdue his animalistic excitement. He curses himself.

He’s never been one to turn down action. It usually comes sporadically to him, and mostly when he’s not looking for it. He’s never felt much use for it before. Power is what he craves above all else, and he ruefully admits that sex doesn’t feel the same as feeling a new, well-deserved ability course through his core.

Sylar throws his head back and bites his lip, closing his eyes. Her hot mouth is on him, and as her tongue and lips engulf him, he can’t suppress the gasp.

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have anything better to do in his cell. Resisting her would be like resisting a storm. Nature has to run her course, so he gives in to her.

“I could make this more interesting for you,” he bargains. She looks up, startled slightly at his voice. Did she really think he was going to let her get away with touching him without some sort of response?

“Not a chance,” she says harshly. She meets his eyes again, and slowly she wiggles out of her tight satin pants. He watches her intently, just as she wants. She’s crazy as hell but not bad to look at. _It’s too bad when she helps me out of here; she’s going to be dead. A pretty, crazy corpse._ He smirks at the thought.

“Like what you see?” she asks as his eyes roam over her lightly tanned torso and legs.

He cocks one eyebrow. “You misunderstand. I was only saying I could make this interesting by enjoying myself – for your sake.”

The muscles in her face tense into a scowl. “I don’t really care if you enjoy it or not. I only care about me.”

“We are alike in that respect,” he says, wiggling his restraints. The drugs are starting to wear down, but he still can’t access his powers. Someone is still muffling him. Inwardly, he curses

Then, she straddles him, and immediately she takes him inside. Sylar tenses, feeling full inside her warmth. She moves slow and then quick, drawing him in an out without rhythm. On instinct, he tries to move with her. He looks up at her face, both enthralled and high with control. Her eyes close as she moves her hips, and he watches her as she climbs for her release. His eyes settle on her lips as she opens her mouth, and as she leans in from the motion, he captures her in a desperate kiss.

She surprises him by responding, and she throws her arms around him and falls closer into his chest. She moans in his mouth, and he tastes sweetness, and he pictures her, this crazy girl, doing something so mundane like eating strawberries or sucking on candy.

She becomes violent, gripping his back with sharp nails and breaking their kiss so she can bite his shoulder. Her hips spasm wildly, and he musters enough strength to lift his hips and plunge deeper. She lets loose a hoarse cry, and he watches her face with intrigue as she tenses, and then comes down. She finds her release, but he’s left aching.

She disengages, much to his physical disappointment, and then she looks down at his rigid lap. She smiles cryptically, and soon, her head is in between his legs again, tasting, suckling, and licking up the remnants of their coupling. He groans as she sucks hard, tracing the hard length of him with her tongue.

He shakes for a moment, and then Sylar lets go inside her mouth. Elle gags slightly, pulling away too late as he finishes on her face. He hears a cry of offense, and he has to bite back a satisfied laugh.

_Serves you right, bitch,_ he thinks to himself, and he’s altogether refreshed and avenged – at least for now. She gives him a miffed look, but he thinks she deserves it for accosting a prisoner like that.

Not to say he didn’t enjoy it.

Somewhere within their silence exchange, Elle composes herself and regains her nerve.

“You’re not bad,” she says, and he watches her as she picks up her pants and slides into them again. She digs into her pocket and pulls out a sample container. Sylar’s confident smile disappears. She wipes the remnants off her face and into the cup. He feels his jaw drop as he clues into her game.

“This might come in handy in the future,” she says. “I think Daddy is right.” Her eyes darken over. “We might not even need you anymore, Sylar.”

His face falls, and anger bursts within him. Once again, he’s been had by the Company. He can’t even imagine the things they would do with that sample. He growls and fights his restraints.

“Oh, settle down, big boy,” Elle says as she heads toward the door. Her light eyes fill with a storm. “It’s not like we’re going to clone you anything.”

Sylar can’t even fathom the possibility. He doesn’t even want to think about it, but that’s exactly what they mean to do – and probably much more. He lets out a loud snarl of protest as she leaves his prison. No matter how much he screams, threatens or fights, she can’t hear him. She’s walking past him as if he no longer exists.

She’s done the job she was supposed to do, and he hates to admit that he underestimated her. He underestimated _them_. And he’s sure there are other ways they could’ve had extracted a sperm sample, but Elle’s methods are all a part of the Company’s mystique.

Sylar settles down in his chair and stares at the floor. More games are sure to come. More plots and more underhanded schemes, but when he busts out of this place they’re all going to suffer. Elle’s little game is just another notch on his long list of grievances.

And in the end, he’ll just scorch this place to the ground, and the little witch Elle Bishop will crumble to ash along with it.

END


End file.
